I'd Lie
by xxxrandom13xxx
Summary: If you'd ask me if I love him, I'd lie" Based on Taylor Swift's song I'd Lie. Hence the name. First fanfic so pleasee be nice..no flames but pointers is ok!


**Author's note: this is my first fanfic so be nice! also, this didn't turn out quite as I wanted it to, but oh well :) The story is based on the lyrics to I'd lie from Taylor Swift.****  
****Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling or Taylor swift.**

November 1st , Gryffindor Common Room

I don't think anybody is able to suit this battered, old armchair better than he does right now.

Lounging as if the world belongs solely to him, he looks around the room. His arms are folded lazily behind his head, the latter resting in the perfect curve his long, slender fingers are forming, and his feet are propped up on the table.

The jeans he is wearing are worn out from all the falls he earned during a hard practice and his black shirt, which fits him - in all its simplicity - just right, is wrinkled at his waist and on the arms, his position not permitting anything else.

A slight smirk is playing on his delicious, peach colored lips as he recounts last night's big event: The Annual Halloween Party, hosted by none other than himself and Al, best friend and cousin of mine.

I can't concentrate on the words tumbling out of his mouth as I am too mesmerized by the little green spots which only seem to appear in his otherwise grey eyes when he is excited or finds something particularly funny.

Suddenly the green specks disappear and are replaced by a darker, somewhat melancholic color, his eyes look cloudy now, a clear sign that something's bothering him.

I tune back in and he is talking about the Break-up now. Al and his long term girlfriend got into a huge fight yesterday and split up, it caused a big scene.

Al is really shaken by it; I think he genuinely loves her.

I can hear him laughing bitterly about their stupidity, as he states that he is never going to make the same mistake and fall in love, sounding so sure of himself. He doesn't believe in being lifted up high into the air by a feeling so incredible you cannot even come close to describing it. He does not believe in butterflies in your stomach and in hardly being able to breathe when you're in near vicinity of this one special person.

He is this one special person to me, and that is why I laugh, I laugh with him, knowing he won't see through the façade, he never does, and hoping he might be wrong in the end.

We are leaving the complex topic of love now and slide into a slightly shallower topic: music

He is talking animatedly about the "The storms" concert he went to during the summer holidays and mentions that they are his all-time favorite band.

His arms are flying wildly as he recites a drum solo, and then transforms into an air-guitarist,

ending his performance with an imitation of Elvis' "Thank you very much".

He looks at me, expecting some kind of response.

I fake a smile, but inwardly I wonder why he doesn't seem to realize that I can count off all his favorite songs by name and he still thinks that I don't even know his favorite band.

It makes me sad, knowing that by the end of the day he still won't see……

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April 3rd , Great Hall

He is wearing emerald green shorts, contradicting his Gryffindor loyalties innocently and subconsciously supporting his father's old house. It is quite funny how he is wearing their colors while bantering with Zabini about next Saturday's match and talking down their tactics and skills.

I would call him a hypocrite did I not know that he is not serious; he just loves to argue and takes up every opportunity he gets for it. I especially love it when he argues with me; his eyes get this manic glint and every time he feels like he is about to lose he starts to nervously tousle his hair. It makes me wonder if it really is as soft as it looks and it takes immense self control to stop myself from reaching over and following the course of his hand.

Actually he is doing it right now, unknowingly turning my previously inconspicuous glance into a full blown longing stare.

Right then Grace enters the room and strides over to me.

Caught in the act, I avert my eyes and instead try to focus on her. But I am still flustered and she is not helping the situation by talking about him. His birthday is in two weeks, on the seventeenth of April, just two days before mine and she is suggesting a joined birthday party. I am not sure if that is what I want. Well, what I want is him, but since that is never going to happen, I guess I should at least take the opportunity to share a party with him. Oh who am I kidding, I would take anything that is even remotely connected to him.

Looking her in the eyes I nod my approval and can't help but notice that her eyes are similar to his but with a hint of icy blue. She probably got them from her mum, while Scorpius obviously got his mesmerizing eyes from his father, who already used them to make girls swoon during his time at Hogwarts. But they both got the looks to kill; it is just not fair how they have everything. They are beautiful, charming and nice and all I got are my locks, that can't decide if they want to be orange or maroon and eyes that are of a boring blue. It is really no wonder that Scorpius won't look at me.

I sigh mournfully and earn a suspicious look from his little sister. She glances from me to him and smiles knowingly; I fake a bewildered expression and walk out of the great hall as fast as possible, without looking like I'm bolting.

Had I turned around I might have seen the curious eyes of one gorgeous blonde following my disappearing frame with wonder, but as I never did, it is left to you to know and keep this knowledge with caution.

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April 20th – Gryffindor Common Room

The party is bustling around me but I can't enjoy it because I know that he isn't. He is laughing with his friends, a butterbeer in his hand and a grin etched onto his features. Only when his eyes examine the room and rest on mine just for a second, can I see what I knew all along: something's bothering him. But he won't show it, won't cry, not in front of people, maybe not even when he is alone.

I feel a slight blush graze my cheeks as he smiles lightly at me, just for a moment he looks genuinely happy. My heart starts thumping against my chest and I am sure that he can hear it all the way across the room, but just as I am about to explode, he turns away and walks slowly out of the common room. My breath hitches as he strides past me, this time not even acknowledging my presence. I want to scream at him, shake him for making me go through this every day and every hour, want to show him how much it hurts to know that the one you love does not love you back, but the moment passes and he is gone and I'm still standing there.

This time it is Lily who looks at me knowingly. I glare at her and make my way over to the bar, where nobody knows me good enough to torture me with knowing looks and smiles.

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June 30th

Aiden is shaking me, trying to rip me from my beautiful dream and yank me unceremoniously back to reality. My first thought when I open my eyes to the bright light of the day is that I am not going to see his beautiful face for 8 whole weeks. Now already depressed I get up and make my way over to the bathroom to get ready for our ride back home. Carefully I apply my make-up and try to make me look at least a little bit presentable. I am blindly hoping, wishing that today will be the day, but knowing subconsciously that I am kidding myself and that it doesn't matter what I wear or how much time I spent on my appearance, he won't look at me anyways.

And still I can't help but search for my favorite jeans and this cute top I bought during our last hogsmead visit. Then I take one last look in the mirror. I don't look all too bad, almost pretty.

As soon as my friends are ready as well, we make our way downstairs and enter the great hall to take the last breakfast before the summer holidays start.

We sit with him and Al and everybody seems to be excited about their oncoming holiday plans, everyone but me. I chew halfheartedly on my pancakes and sneak a few glances at Scorpius once in a while. He catches me and grins broadly, then he starts pulling funny faces and I can't help but laugh. For a moment I feel almost light and carefree and then I remember that he is just being friendly because we're loose friends and I'm his best friend's cousin and my mood changes instantaneously. I sigh glumly and get up to check my trunk one last time.

The train ride goes by without any incidents and as soon as I know it we're at Kings Cross station and all my friends have left for the summer.

As I am trying to lift my heavy trunk down the rack and failing miserably, a slender hand comes up from behind me and hoists it down as if it's light as a feather.

I turn around tentatively and am met with a pair of pale grey eyes.

I don't know how to react or what to do; we were never alone before, there were always other people around.

After a few minutes of contemplating and a stretching awkward silence, I shyly thank him and then move out of the compartment and into the corridor. But before I can go any further cold fingers attach themselves to my wrist and stop me.

Wow this is definitely too much cliché for me.

For the second time that day I turn around to face the boy of my affection.

His hand darts up to tousle his blonde locks, a clear sign that he's nervous, and then he opens his mouth.

'You love me, don't you?' It is more of a statement than a question.

_And if you ask me if I love him__  
__I'd lie_

'No..', I say, then I walk away.

Like it? Love it? Hate it? tell me.


End file.
